Assassin's Creed III: Master Assassin
by Miko122
Summary: For 2-years, Connor Kenway had adopted a silent life alone in the Davenport Homestead, away from a life with the assassins, expanding the homestead slowly and hunting for produce. Then, one midnight, Connor is engaged by numerous assassins, all of them calling him back on his last epic adventure, as Connor finds himself forming new relationships, and serving the order one again.


**Assassin's Creed 3: The Master Assassin:**

**Prologue:**

"In your haste to save the world,

take care you don't destroy it" -

**Achilles Davenport**

_2 years ago_

His robes were stained with blood. The intensity of the battle... the burning/falling roof... it wore him out. He clutched his dagger tight in his hands. Connor drew nearer to Charles Lee, his target, who sat back on a chair in the tavern, his apparel too was stained with blood, and so was the glass of beer in front of him. Connor was weary.

He moved forward, his target making no attempt to move. Lee faced Connor, who was still limping, his hand pressed against his blood stained abdomen. Was it broken? Connor panted, breathing heavily, yet he found his way to the second chair overlooking Lee's table, and Connor pushed his chair closer to Lee, seating himself on it.

He locked eyes with his enemies, and he could tell – Lee knew it was the end for him. Connor reached, letting his dagger drop down on the table, and then leaning back again, still grunting. Charles reached for his beer bottle, raising it to his lips, taking a drink, and then seconds later, he turned to Connor. Lee grinned, lending his hand forward, and Connor reaches his hand, taking the beer and whipping his head up, drinking. The beer was _strong. _

Connor set the beer back, his eyes tracing Charles Lee's every move. The blood filling Connor's abdomen was growing, and more and more was piling up. He needed medical attention. And so Connor took his dagger. _He was ready to end this. _Connor moved forward, grabbing Lee by his clothing and pulling him forward, and they locked eyes. They'd fought honourable fights, but this shan't go on any longer. They both knew this. Connor clutched his dagger, blinking once, then thrusting his dagger forward, digging it into Charles' bloodied chest. 'Ah!' Lee cried, grunting heavily. Then Connor pulled back...

It was over.

…

**Present Day**

His senses were sharpened – keen. Connor's hand clutched on his own bow, gripping it tightly, with a sort of grip to hold back a raging beast. He'd been taught to monitor sound, sight – and instincts. Connor dragged on the bow's string, taking a whiff of the air and picking up the bear's scent. He fired, and the arrow flew through the air, puncturing the bear's hide, and he fell on the ground, lifeless. _A clean kill._

Connor hung his bow behind his back, galloping his horse forward, speedily, then dropping down to bear's level, kneeling down and drawing his dagger. 'Nya:weh' Connor spoke, cutting at the bear's hide, skinning the animal.

He kept the hide stored in a sack carried by his own horse, and he stroked the back of his pet horse. 'Good work' he fed his horse some food, hopping on it's back. He had finished hunting for the day. 'Ya!' Connor galloped his horse, riding through the great frontier, his horse leaping over fallen trees, moving at great speed, the nature of the frontier flying beside him, as he passed wolves, elks, dears and bears, but they would stay alive for this day. _Time to return to the homestead._

…

The Davenport Homestead was a growing community. Men and woman were welcomed to stay and live in the Davenport Homestead, so long as they could provide resources for the community and it's people. Founded by Achilles Davenport, who had died a couple of years ago, the Davenport Homestead was given to Connor Kenway, Achilles's protege, and some considered him Achilles's adoptive/unofficial son. Since Achilles's passing, Connor seemed different, and he rode into the homestead, smiling to the people around him.

First people he lay eyes on were Godfrey, who had been growing a bushy beard, and who was with his wife, Catherine, and both of them were selling produce. Connor had encountered Godfrey at a young age, alongside his on-and-off again friend Terry, rescuing a fallen Terry who was drifting off on a log floating in water. Connor waved to Godfrey and Catherine, and Terry who was there too. 'Enjoying the fine weather today?' Connor stopped his horse near Godfrey, Catherine and Terry, smiling. 'It is a fine day to be merry in' Godfrey responded.

'And have you been having a nice day too, Connor?' Catherine spoke. 'Indeed' Connor responded. 'But there's a lot of work awaiting me in the manor. Where are your children?'

'Well speak of the little devils' Godfrey said playfully, turning to face his little children, who ran forward to Godfrey, Catherine and Terry's stall. 'Connor!' One of the kids cried. 'Hello Tom' Connor smiled, dropping off his horse, and embracing the kids in a kind, yet firm hug, then drawing back. 'What have you kids been up to today?' Connor ruffled Billy's hair. 'Just a little mischief' Catherine walked forward. 'C'mon kids... go indoors in our house... we're going to have a long day tomorrow. It's getting dark, and I suggest you go to bed.'

'Oh... c'mon' Billy argued.

'That's just stupid' Catherine Jr. said.

'What is this all about?' Connor asked. 'Well...we're leaving tomorrow for a short vacation to Italy' Godfrey explained.

'Seems interesting. Aren't you kids excited?' Connor asked the kids. 'Yeah... well... we'll miss you' Catherine Jr. responded. 'Don't you worry' Connor said. 'I promise i'll be waiting here when you're back.'

'You better keep you're promise' Billy smiled.

…

Connor had rode on through the homestead, towards his manor. He had business to attend to, and he had to ship his hunting produce via convoy. Connor smiled to his residents of the homestead. He and his residents had grown into a large family – the family that Connor never had, and considering that Achilles died several years ago, it was nice to have some company to cheer him up.

Then, Connor stopped at the brown bricked 'Davenport Manor.' Connor dropped off his horse, dragging his sack of produce, feeding the horse and giving it drink, and then he approached the entrance to his manner, finding an envelope half tucked through the bottom of the door, sticking out. 'Hm...' Connor leaned down, grabbing the letter, standing up. The envelope didn't say anything, but there must be a letter inside. Who would send him a letter?

He'd read it inside. Connor opened the entrance to his homestead manor, leading himself inside, shutting the door behind him and dropping his sack near the door. Connor walked through the hallway of the Davenport Manor, entering his office, and placing the letter on his desk. 'Okay' Connor set on his chair, neatly unfolding the envelope, and he found a letter stored inside, written on parchment.

Connor unfolded the letter, leaning back on his chair, and beginning to read.

_Connor Kenway,_

_This Letter comes from the continental assassins-_

Connor stopped reading then. The continental assassins? He'd avoided a life with the assassin's for years. The robes he bared as an assassin were even hung on the armoury downstairs, and now, he just wore standard hunting gear while out in the frontier, and casual clothing while walking in streets and in the homestead. His abdomen was gravely injured anyways, and he doubted he could fight with such efficiency that he'd mastered at a younger age. He was 29-years-old now, going into 30 in 3 months. He continued reading:

_Throughout the past 2-years, we have expanded the continental assassins, founding several branches and camps. We have been operating at a great, efficient rate in the past couple of years, but unfortunately, the Templar's have managed to penetrate the assassin archives and lay their hands on a blueprint of all assassin camps and branches, and the Templars are now speedily reading America of the continental assassins, now full-welling knowing and studying our exact locations._

_You, Connor Kenway, have served the order faithfully for countless years, but we wish for you to serve the order once again. Once you're done, you will be able to return home again, living an assassin free life. Meet us at the New York docks within 4 hours._

_Thank you._

Not exactly. Connor wasn't in the right mind and physical frame to serve the assassin's once again. He wasn't the same man he was several years ago. And so Connor lit a fire, grabbing the letter, and chucking it inside, watching it burn, and once there was nothing but ash, Connor distinguished the flames, cleaning up the chimney and sweeping it off of any ashes. The envelope burned in there too. He wondered what Achilles would think. He doubted Achilles would've cared anyhow.

He almost forgot how Achilles left the order behind. After serving the assassin order as Grandmaster for years, Achilles had given up on the order, just leaving it behind as an afterthought. Connor shook these thoughts off, yawning. He was tired, and Connor stared down to his wrist, his analog clock signalling that it was 9:05. He's slept for only 5 hours last night, yet he had to send his hunting produce via convoy now. And so Connor pulled forward his accounting book, planning out where he's sending his hunting skins, pelts and hides, and for 1 hour, that's what he was doing.

Once Connor was finished, he was heaps tired. He set his accounting book back down on his desk, preparing for sleep. Connor paced up the stairs, up to his room, opening the door, and walking inside, shutting his room door behind him. His bed was waiting for him, and after removing his armour and shirt, Connor slipped on a pair of trousers, and a shirtless Connor fell down on his bed, his mind still pondering on the letter he received earlier...

…

What was the time? Why had he awoken? Connor turned to his clock hanging on the wall, noting the time was somewhere from 4:31 to 4:35, but he couldn't bother to think too much. He could hear footsteps forward to his room, and he shut his eyes close, shielding out all the sounds he could hear, the sound of several footsteps.

He just wanted to rest, but the sounds grew louder. He thought he might be dreaming, and he couldn't be bothered to think more. He shut his eyes, hearing his own door open, and his eyes shot open, and Connor whipped his head to the side...

A shady figure lunged forward, a dagger in hand. 'Stop!' Connor leaped off of his bed, darting forward to the figure, swinging a kick on his check, sanding him back colliding on a wall, yet Connor was restrained from behind. 'Ah!' He thrust his elbow back to the attacker restraining him, and his abdomen felt great pain. Whoever was restraining him from behind released him. The man with the dagger lunged forward, swinging his dagger, but Connor ducked, rushing to a vase, grabbing it and chucking it at his attack, who simply dodged the throw, the vase smashing behind him.

'Are you crazy' Connor ran forward, his abdomen sensing pain, and he gave up, collapsing on his knees. _Damn abdomen! _'Who are you' Connor managed to stand up, and the attacker swung his knife again, but Connor grabbed his attacker's wrist, swinging him and throwing him out of the window, smashing it, and the attacker with the dagger fell to the balcony.

Connor turned to face the other attacker behind him, and Connor couldn't make out what sort of armour the man was dressed in through the armour. Connor struck, punching the man in the chest, who kicked back, grabbing Connor, mustering enough strength to chuck him out of the window. 'Ah!' Connor fall past the balcony. 'Ah!'

Connor fell down to the front of the manor, near the stables. His back was now injured, _too. _Connor cursed, for the first time in years. He mustered the ability to clamber back to his feet, looking around him to realise he's circled by eight men and woman. All of them wielding sharp and blunt steel weapons. All of them prepared to attack.

All of them assassins.

**So, this idea came to me after I realised I REALLY wanted to write a fanfic centred around Connor. A part of me feels as if Connor didn't continue to serve the assassin order, while the other half tells me Connor wouldn't leave the order, but I went with the former. I think it's an interesting idea, and as this story progresses, we'll see some familiar faces return, as well as some new faces introduced.**

**I hope you liked it, and I tried to capture Connor's personality as much as I could, and I hope you enjoyed the writing and dialogue. As for Spider-Man Unlimited fans... well... I know I haven't been able to update for a while, but i'll get to that one later. At least, now you know i'm not dead.**

**Please read, review, favourite and follow, and I hope you tune in for the next chapter, as we continue to witness how Connor's last adventure progresses!**


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